


Marry Me

by Freckles_From_Brooklyn



Series: Preemptive Fix-it Fics because god knows we're gonna need it [42]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Post canon, Preemptive fix it, Sickfic, incoherent marriage proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29922597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckles_From_Brooklyn/pseuds/Freckles_From_Brooklyn
Summary: Jon has to take care of his sick boyfriend. Bribery is involved
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Preemptive Fix-it Fics because god knows we're gonna need it [42]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132277
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69





	Marry Me

Martin was little more than a cocoon of blankets when Jon entered the bedroom. Jon sighed. He didn’t like seeing his boyfriend like this, laid low by fever, drifting in and out of consciousness. At least Jon was there to take care of him. Jon didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he wasn’t. He set the tray he was carrying down on the nightstand, then bent over Martin. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured softly. “Martin, can you wake up for me, honey?” Martin’s eyes slowly opened, and he grinned deliriously up at Jon.

“Jon! You’re back!” he cried happily, sitting up in bed. 

“Yes, love, I’m back,” Jon said. “We need to get these blankets off of you, okay?

“Noooooo,” Martin whined. “I need them! I’m cold!” 

“Darling, you’re sweating buckets,” Jon said. “If you keep them on, you’ll overheat.”

“I’m  _ cold! _ ” Martin insisted. “I need all of these blankets or else I’ll freeze to death and you’ll be responsible!” Jon sighed. Time for a new approach. 

“I have some soup for you,” He coaxed. “And a cheese toastie, and some nice hot chocolate. You can have some of what I made if you take one of these blankets off, alright?” Martin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, the effect somewhat lessened by how unfocused they were.

“What kind of soup?” he asked. 

“Tomato,” Jon replied. “My recipe. The one with all the spices that you like.” Martin huffed. 

“Fine,” He said, carefully peeling off one blanket before looking expectantly at Jon. Jon sat down on the bed next to him, tearing off a piece of the toastie and dipping it in the soup before handing it to Martin. Martin popped it into his mouth, sighing happily as he chewed. 

“You’re perfect,” He said. 

“Are you talking to me or the toastie?” Jon teased. 

“Yes,” Martin replied dreamily. “Can I have more?”

“That depends,” Jon said. “Are you going to take another blanket off for me?”

“What? That wasn’t the deal!” Martin said. “You said if I took off one blanket, I could have the food!” 

“No, the deal was if you took of one blanket, you could have  _ some _ of the food,” Jon corrected him. “I’ve held up my end of the bargain.”

“Pedantic asshole,” Martin grumbled. 

“I thought I was perfect,” Jon said.

“Not anymore you’re not!” Martin retorted. “Give me my food!”

“Take off the blanket and you can have some more food,” Jon said. Martin shed another blanket, grumbling all the while, and Jon gave him another piece of toastie dipped in soup. “Take off one more blanket and I’ll let you have the whole thing,” He said. Martin reluctantly shed one more layer and looked at Jon expectantly. Jon placed the tray on his lap, watching as Martin wolfed down the rest of the food, leaning back against the headboard once he was done. 

“Marry me?” The question took Jon by surprise, and he nearly dropped the tray.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked once he’d set the tray safely on the nightstand. 

“Marry me, please, Jon, I want to marry you,” Martin said. “I love you so much, you’re so amazing and wonderful and sweet and perfect and you take such good care of me and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Jon’s face flushed. 

“I’ll tell you what, darling,” He said, brushing a few strands of damp hair away from Martin’s forehead. “We’ll talk about it once you’re feeling better, and if you still feel the same way then, I’d love to marry you. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Martin agreed, snuggling back into his remaining blankets. 

“Do you need anything else?” Jon asked, kissing the top of his head. Martin shook his head. “Sleep well, then, Martin,” Jon said. “Get better soon.”


End file.
